Change of plans

It’s a statutory holiday today, in most of Canada. February didn’t have a statutory holiday until a relatively few years ago (different years for different provinces), and it’s one of those holidays where each province got to pick it. It is not a federal holiday. Depending on where you live in Canada, today is Family Day, Islander Day (in Prince Edward Island), Nova Scotia Heritage Day, or Louis Riel Day (in Manitoba).

My plans for the day was to do some bread baking and some housework, and otherwise just stay at home.

This morning, my mother phoned.

Change of plans! πŸ˜€

My mother had run out of some groceries, and the sidewalks were not clear enough for her to want to take her walker over to the grocery store a few blocks away, so would I be able to come over and help her? She wasn’t even sure if the grocery store would be open on the holiday, but grocery stores (and gas station/convenience stores) are pretty much the only stores open in our small towns on a stat hol, though for only Sunday hours.

So we worked out that I would come over in the afternoon.

Having taken advantage of a home day to NOT do my rounds while it was still mostly dark out, I headed out shortly after my mom called.

Like mother, like daughter!

The kibble in the bin is every bit as frozen as what’s left in their food bowls, but apparently it tastes better when you can climb all over it. πŸ˜€

Our South-West yard, after all the winds we’ve been having for the past while. We’re going to have a lot of willow branches to clean up in the spring!

I had a whole parade of cats following me as I continued my rounds. πŸ˜€

Today is the first time I’ve taken my mom’s car out since… well, the last time I went to her place! That was when I’d noticed an unfamiliar noise coming from the back that I have already talked to the garage about. I use the car so infrequently, I still haven’t got the recommended number of highway miles driven before getting the new tires torqued. I think I’ll bring it in for that, later in the week. The mechanic said that, if the noise is still there, he’d check it again, but he couldn’t think of what might be making it. The noise is still there, unchanged from the last time I drove it. I was talking to my brother about it a little while ago, telling him that, for all I know, it’s a normal car sound that was always there, but I just couldn’t hear it over the other noises that are not there anymore, now that so much work has been done on it. I haven’t driven a small car since…




The smallest car we’ve ever had was a Ford Tempo, many years ago, and my mom’s car is smaller than that. Other that my mom’s car, we’ve been driving minivans for the past 10+ years.

My brother can’t really think of what the noise might be, either. Ah, well. I hope to find out soon enough!

Since I was there to help her out anyway, my mom was able to stock up quite a bit on groceries, so she won’t be running out of things any time soon. We even got a decent visit in, too. There were just a few attempts to go off the rails. Even when she phoned me this morning, she was commenting on how she’d tried calling my brother and it went to machine, and did I know what’s going on there? I told her it was a long weekend. They would have taken advantage of the extra day to go visit their grand baby. This is in another province, so my mother was all “oh, they’ll drive so far away for that, but he won’t even come to visit me?” I pointed out that he sees her more than he sees his own first grand child, and they’re pretty excited about being grandparents. Her response? The baby has two healthy parents to take care of him, but her, she’s the baby that needs taking care of now.

I put at stop to that line of thinking, right away! She is no baby, and why does she assume the parents are both healthy, anyhow? I didn’t go into detail, since that would have been more than she could understand, but mama had some health problems not long ago and needed a lot of help. For all I knew as of this morning, she was still recovering (she’s fine, I was happy to learn). Unfortunately, my mother doesn’t really understand why my brother and his wife want to see their grand child so much. When her first grand children were born, she made it very clear that she was done parenting, and don’t ask her to be involved with them. She had no problem pressuring her children breed as much and as quickly as possible, but had no interest in the children that resulted. Now she’s going the same with the grand children. She’s constantly on about them having babies, and now that she’s got her first grand child, she just goes on about who is the next one to have babies. 😦

I’ve had to have some conversations with her, over the years, trying to tell her that it’s a very bad idea to rag on people about when they’re going to have babies, because for all she knows, they might not be able to have babies, or might have lost babies. I don’t know how effective those conversations have been, but at least there should be some kind of awareness in the back of her mind, that saying these things might be incredibly hurtful to people who want babies, but can’t have them.

Well, I sure went off on a tangent…


Where was I?

Ah, yes. Conversing with my mother!

The other dig she tried to make with me was her belief that, since one of my daughters works from home, she can be there for her dad if he needs assistance, and my other daughter and I should both have jobs. (And did I know what she used to have jobs? Yes, Mom, I knew that.) Since my daughter already has one, I’m guessing she means a full time job instead of part time? I don’t know, but I did have to explain to her – again – that I can’t get a job. Anything I earn would be deducted from my husband’s disability payments, dollar for dollar. If I earned enough that he would not have a payment anymore, he wouldn’t just have zero payments. He would lose his insurance completely, which means we would be paying full price for all his medications.

The craziness of that particular situation was enough to distract her away from that topic, at least!

I talked to her about how things are going at the farm, which is always a strange combination of her telling me I should be talking to my brother about that, because it’s his responsibility, while also telling me what I should do, and how I should do it, and what do I mean those old maps on the walls are in storage now? Why did I take those down? And why did I take down all the mirrors? I didn’t throw them away, did I? Oh, and did I know about the ice cream machine in that storage space up by the ceiling in the kitchen? And what about those paint cans in the garage? Are they still there? What’s funnier is when I would tell her about something we’d like to do this summer and, after I was done, she would express her approval by giving me permission to do it.


What can you do but laugh?

She also wanted to know if my siblings and I had talked about, and “made a decision” about, what we planned to do with her come “D-day” – a time when she could no longer take care of herself. We had tried to meet in person, which failed due to weather, but someone told her we could talk about it by email (that would have been me telling her that! LOL). I agree we need to talk about it. The problem is, she already knows what she wants – to move in with my sister – but doesn’t want to say that outright to my sister. Frankly, I think she would be unhappy living on a farm again, with just two other people, now that she’s gotten used to bingo twice a week, pot luck suppers, coffee nights, and being able to walk across the street to go to church twice a week.

So I didn’t have much I could tell her about that, since we really hadn’t talked about it. We can, of course, but without her being part of the discussion, it’s rather moot. She wants us to make the decision for her, and we’re all refusing to take away her personal autonomy while she still has the mental ability to make those decisions herself. That rather leaves us in a bit of a limbo! The best we can do is come up with suggestions, tell her about them, and let her decide what she likes best. Which will be none of them, except the one she’s trying to manipulate us into “decide” for her.

Ah, well. We’ll figure it out.

While all that was going on, my daughters messaged me to let me know that all the stuff I’d wanted done today were taken care of. πŸ™‚ Which meant I came home to vacuumed floors, supper made, bread rising, and these, still warm out of the oven.

Sourdough biscuits with a blend of both white and orange old cheddar cheese. They are the lightest, flakiest biscuits I’ve ever had! I don’t know where my daughter found the recipe, but it’s a keeper!

What would I do without my girls? πŸ™‚

The Re-Farmer

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